


There's A First Time For Everything

by keirajo



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Romance, Romantic Pursuit, hey look a new pairing tag, interfacing, matured for topic conversation, no explicit description, there is background Protectobot stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Shortly after being reassigned to Cybertron following the Hate Plague--Hot Rod tries to figure out just where he stands in the Autobot Ranks now.   He's treated differently, by different people--and he also worries that everyone thinks Galvatron's seriously going to keep letting them have peace from now on.   An emotionally mature part of Rodimus Prime still lingers inside of him and when a small group of Autobots return to Cybertron, pursued by Decepticons, Hot Rod finds all of his wits suddenly tested by an energetic new mech named Brainstorm.
Relationships: Brainstorm/Hot Rod
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	There's A First Time For Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withersake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withersake/gifts).
  * Inspired by [got the love i need to see me through.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040025) by [withersake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withersake/pseuds/withersake). 



> Gift for SirenSong. :) I seriously hope I got the right one in the dropdown menu! Please let me know if I did it wrong! @_@
> 
> Takes place right after "The Return of Optimus Prime", but before "The Rebirth".

**_ There’s A First Time For Everything _ **

“Am I boring you, son?” Kup’s familiar old voice snapped, cutting deeply into Hot Rod’s thoughts.

The flame-colored mech gave a jolt and turned his attention back up to the old dusty-blue and grey mech. It had been nearly six months since the “ _hate plague_ ” incident on Earth—six months since he was no longer Rodimus Prime, the Leader of the Autobots. At first, he thought it was a blessing, but now he was beginning to wonder if it was a curse.

“ _No, Kup_ ,” Hot Rod answered, his voice deep and full of regret. “It’s just…….. _what am I doing here_ and **_why_** are you telling me about security measures here on Cybertron? Seriously, **_why_**?”

“Because you’re in charge, lad,” the oldmech sighed, folding his arms across his chest and he shook his head with disappointment.

“ ** _No_**. _No, I’m not._ I believe Optimus Prime’s very exact words were _—‘Hot Rod, go back to Cybertron with Kup and the others.’_ In no way whatsoever did he once say or even hint that I was _in charge_ ,” the flame-colored mech argued, rising from his seat. He strode quickly to the door before the old Autobot soldier could stop him. “Nobody wants me in charge anyways, I think that was clear even just six months ago,” he added with a sad tone in his voice, leaving and transforming into his vehicle mode once he was past the building.

Hot Rod sped out towards the Badlands. At least driving helped. It cleared his head because he didn’t have to do anything but look at the road ahead of him. Kup was really _the only one_ who was trying to include him in this manner—everyone else was off doing their own thing and being excited that it seemed the war might even **_maybe_** , _possibly be over_. Maybe only Hot Rod couldn’t take Galvatron’s odd gesture of ceasefire at face value. He had fought with Galvatron for just about a year, all that combat and trying to outwit the unpredictable, chaotic force that was the current Decepticon Leader.

_Yes_ , it was true that the Decepticons hadn’t done a single thing in the past six months. Intelligence reports had them recuperating on Chaar. It was hard to tell exactly what the Decepticons were doing on Chaar, from the varying reports. There were reports that the Constructicons were building and the Decepticons seemed to be aimless and having incredibly heated sparring combat sessions with each other. Galvatron himself had barely been seen by the intelligence reports and Optimus Prime surmised he was remaining in the half-built building labelled as his “ _palace_ ” and avoiding all observation.

**_That_** , alone, should have told anyone that Galvatron was plotting something. The fact that the Decepticons were not suffering meant they were also getting Energon from somewhere and that should’ve also tipped someone off that “ _things were just not right_ ” with the Decepticons. He brought it up via a communique with Ultra Magnus, who’d been ordered to remain on Earth with Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobot forces. But his Second-in-Command, who now was Optimus Prime’s Second-in-Command, said they were keeping an eye on the Decepticons and they’d know if something were going to happen immediately.

So, even Hot Rod’s concerns weren’t of any importance to anyone, anymore. It was just like before, when he was treated like a nuisance to the Autobots—young and impetuous. They got him out of the way back then by foisting him onto Spike and his family………and now Hot Rod didn’t even have that to go back to. Daniel was back on Earth with his mother and father and Hot Rod was stuck here on Cybertron.

“ _Wait a sec_ …………” the flame-colored mech murmured, suddenly seeing flames and smoke rising from the surface, not too far from where he was at. **[Kup, I think we might have some trouble. Sending you coordinates and I’m heading in to check it out!]** He sent to his friend and mentor immediately, opening up his engines full-throttle and speeding towards the situation.

He was glad he was so fast, because there were Autobots and there were Decepticons and there was fighting—and the Autobots were _not_ on the winning side at this point, even though they had the Decepticons outnumbered. Hot Rod transformed into his primary mode and slid in front of a teal-and-white colored mech on the ground, where a black-and-grey colored mech was trying to see to his injuries. The flame-colored mech said nothing to the two Autobots, but focused on the Decepticon in a helicopter mode firing on them. He swept one arm in an arc in front of him, his piping firing off rapid shots into the side of the Decepticon, then took quick aim with his photon laser and took out the propeller.

The blue-and-purple Decepticon gave a pretty amusing cry and used some choice swear words as he spun off and crashed a short distance away.

Hot Rod quickly evaluated the situation with the other two Decepticons in the combat and saw that they were being occupied with the attentions of three other Autobots that he didn’t recognize, so he incycled a deep breath and turned to the two Autobots behind him. The flame-colored mech knelt beside the teal-and-white one and began looking over the injuries.

They happened to be fairly minor injuries, just a gaping hole in his shoulder. Clearly this Autobot _never_ had injuries like **_this_** before, because he was moaning like he was dying. Hot Rod scoffed and pulled a thick mesh cloth from a subspace pocket in his boot. He shoved it hard against the teal-and-white mech’s shoulder, then looked at the grey-and-black mech.

“Hold this firm on his shoulder,” he ordered. “Name’s Hot Rod,” he introduced.

“I’m Cerebros, this is Brainstorm,” the grey-and-black mech said in a quiet voice, placing his servos against the mesh cloth. “We’re both scientists and our fighting skills lack, but our group thought we’d come back to Cybetron since we had heard of a ceasefire.”

“I still doubt the sincerity of Galvatron’s words, but yeah, _whatever_ ,” Hot Rod said, shaking his head. “I’m not familiar with those particular Decepticons, so they may not be under Galvatron’s banner as of yet.” He glanced back out to the combat and found that some other Autobots had joined the fight. “Your other companions are clearly soldiers though.”

“Well, _Hardhead_ is. Chromedome and Highbrow would rather not fight, but they both have better skills over Brainstorm and I,” Cerebros responded with a light chuckle. He felt the teal-and-white mech stir and the yellow optic glass glowed a little bit, dimly but solidly. “Welcome back, would you care to thank your savior?” He asked, gazing down into his companion’s optics, then nodded towards Hot Rod.

Brainstorm’s head tilted in Hot Rod’s direction.

“ _You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen_ ………..” Brainstorm murmured, optics looking over the flame-colored mech.

Hot Rod’s faceplate turned bright pink and he immediately hopped up to his pedes, turning to run away. He transformed into his alt mode and raced back to Iacon before anything else happened, his head a whirl of strange and chaotic thoughts. Nobody had ever said such a thing to him……….. ** _ever_**!

* * * * *

_It was like a whirlwind had entered his life._

Brainstorm was young and enthusiastic—a thousand times smarter than Hot Rod, as well as a thousand times dumber. Hot Rod found himself sometimes frustrated by Brainstorm’s young enthusiasm—as well as frightened by the sometimes bigger and stranger scientific words he would use—and realized, **_this_** was probably how the Autobots had once felt about him. They had no idea how to handle Hot Rod and often just told him to go and do something else, so Hot Rod was determined to try and be more mature about the situation and just accepted Brainstorm the way he was—and tolerated him as much as possible.

The flame-colored mech was surprised to find that he was both _frustrated_ and _attracted_ to the teal-and-white colored mech.

“ _Say, Hot Rod_ —have you ever interfaced in zero gravity? It’s _really_ an experience………” Brainstorm said, warmth toning his voice, since a facial shield blocked the expression of a smile.

If the environment had been anywhere else but where it was right now, Hot Rod might have been so embarrassed that he would’ve punched Brainstorm’s optics out immediately. However, it was probably a very valid question right now, since the teal-and-white mech was on top of him, _on the berth_ , **_in Hot Rod’s room_**.

They were _only_ making out, though.

That was the way had been, that was why it was such a whirlwind. Hot Rod couldn’t say “ _no_ ” and couldn’t push Brainstorm away—plus his interest in the young scientist had grown and become more heated over the past few months. He was afraid to reveal to the teal-and-white mech that he was a total virgin mech, though. He always just called things off right before Brainstorm could get him to actual interfacing…….. _and probably used the lamest excuses he’d ever used in his life._

Becoming Rodimus Prime gave Hot Rod a wider view of the universe and of individuals, but it gave him no further intimate experiences at all. _Nothing_ he’d ever learned or experienced was going to help him right now, he’d have to tell Brainstorm sooner or later about……….. _about being a virgin mech_.

_No time like the present, he supposed_.

Hot Rod shoved a servo flat over Brainstorm’s faceplate. “Hold up a sec, okay? _Let’s_ ……….let’s cool down a little,” he murmured softly, pushing to sit up as he pushed on Brainstorm’s face to push the other mech off from on top of him.

The disappointment rippled through Brainstorm’s field like a storm tapering off, slowly sliding away into neutrality. Hot Rod felt bad, because the mech probably thought this was it for the night—and it probably was, Hot Rod wasn’t mentally ready to break his seals right now. But it didn’t mean he didn’t want to finally talk about it, to let Brainstorm know so that they could prepare a better time for something like this. He felt a little chilled when the young scientist’s frame pulled away from him and a deep longing to feel that frame on top of his own again suffused his entire being.

The quiet went on for _too long_.

“Should I head off for tonight?” Brainstorm suddenly asked, the tone of his voice low and neutral.

“ ** _No!_** I mean, we need to talk and **_I_** ……..well, frankly I _suck_ at talking things out,” Hot Rod laughed softly.

“I tend to use big words when I talk, so……….” Brainstorm laughed, as well.

Hot Rod incycled and exvented several times. “You know, I kinda like you Brainstorm. It’s weird, I’ve never really gotten close to anyone before and I’m a pretty young mech, so all of this is kinda new to me,” the flame-colored mech said softly. “And I literally do mean— _it’s all new to me_ ,” he said, softly, not really knowing how to actually say he was still sealed and stuff without going into fits of programming error messages flooding his HUD.

“ _Oh_. No wonder you’re pretty hesitant about things!” Brainstorm said in awe, sitting back on his haunches on the berth, placing his servos on his knee-joints.

Brainstorm was still _not getting it_ , though, was Hot Rod going to have to actually say it aloud?

“But you like me touching you and kissing you, so we can keep going like that until it feels better for you,” Brainstorm said. “Now that I know, I’ll be a bit more patient. I mean, if you haven’t interfaced in a while, you might be a little…….” he trailed off.

Hot Rod facepalmed himself.

“ _What?_ Are you into _kinks_? Are you embarrassed to talk about **_that_**? I’m pretty experimental myself, we could………” he started to say, when Hot Rod’s grey servo landed smack in the center of his faceplate, as if to cover his mouth and shut him up.

“ _I’m still sealed, you moron_ ,” Hot Rod hissed. “You’re supposed to be _so smart_ , I can’t believe I actually had to say it aloud……..” he sighed, his faceplate turning bright pink and his field flowing with embarrassment as he dropped his servo from the teal-and-white mech’s faceplate.

“You’re still………… _no way_!” Brainstorm gasped in disbelief. Then he began laughing as it all made sense to him now, why Hot Rod would always keep stopping him just before it got to interfacing. “ _Oh Primus! This makes you even **hotter**! I’m going to do my best to be your **very first**!_” The young scientist said, in a tone that was far too scientifically serious for what they were discussing.

“Now, wait, Brainstorm………” the flame-colored mech groaned, reaching up to rub his temples with a couple of digits, in a gesture he always recognized Ultra Magnus needing to use when stress started creeping in on him. Brainstorm really _was_ as young and as enthusiastic as he, himself, was about many things—they made a strange and fairly well-matched pair, both of them having a great energy for life. “ _Look_. I need a little more time to decide if I want to break my seals—if I want you to break them for me.”

“ _Of course, of course!_ **_I_** need to plan as well. There are many avenues of potential for this and I need to ponder _all of them_ ,” Brainstorm answered with total seriousness as he got up off the berth.

_‘Oh holy Primus, he really **is** taking this seriously—as if first fragging was a scientific pursuit!’_ Hot Rod thought, staring up at the teal-and-white mech with an expression that was something along the lines of aghast. Brainstorm was muttering to himself and making hand motions at random as he started walking to the door of the hab suite. “Brainstorm, what are you…….?” He trailed off, when suddenly the young scientist rounded on him with his yellow optic glass glowing brightly and pointing directly at him with a single digit, waving his servo determinedly.

“ ** _Give me two days_**. I am going to give you the _greatest first time_ you’ve ever had!” Brainstorm said, excitedly.

“ _Uh_ , a first time can only be had _one time_ , you know?” Hot Rod said, but clearly Brainstorm’s mind was already on his planning.

“ _Two days_ , Hot Rod—prepare yourself, it will be **_fantastic_**!” Brainstorm chortled, leaving the hab suite and leaving the flame-colored mech there to try and decide what had just happened and whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

* * * * *

“First Aid, can I ask you a question?” Hot Rod asked, hopping up onto the examination slab in the medical ward of Iacon.

“I _wondered_ why you suddenly came in here asking for a checkup,” the small medic chuckled softly as he took a datapad from a slot near the door. “Usually you Autobot Leaders need to be **_dragged_** down to medi-bay for routine maintenance and checkups.”

“Yeah, well I’m not _that_ anymore, am I?” The flame-colored mech sighed.

“It was a rough year and you _are_ young……….” First Aid began. Then he shook his head and tapped the datapad lightly, rhythmically, against his opposite servo. “I think if you’d had a little more guidance and a lot less pressure, things could’ve been better for you. But _my opinion_ is only asked for when the problems are injuries, so……….” he trailed off with a sigh. Then he brightened up and his blue optic glass glowed brightly with interest. “You wanted to ask a question and I’m assuming it must be somehow _vaguely medical_ or you wouldn’t come to me.”

“ _Yeah_. About frames and interfacing and stuff like _that_. I mean you _don’t have to_ , if you’re busy, but I know you’re pretty experienced and you’re not going to treat me like a newmech and chase me off with a datapad of information to read instead,” Hot Rod said, his faceplate vivid pink and his EM field weaving around his own frame with confusion and embarrassment. “You don’t have to, though. I just thought that _maybe_ I could ask you.”

First Aid folded the arm with the servo holding the datapad across his chest and rested his elbow-joint of his other arm against the wrist of his folded arm. He placed his white servo lightly against the side of his faceplate and gave a soft humming sound in his vocalizer as he thought about what the young, flame-colored mech was asking him. He’d never really been asked about that sort of thing by anyone at all, he’d only been asked to give checkups on interface arrays when there were problems. From what it sounded like, Hot Rod had _never interfaced before_ and that meant he was a virgin mech, still sealed and everything!

“Have you been waiting for _‘the right one’_?” First Aid asked, curiously, relaxing his stance and walking over to where Hot Rod was on the medical examination slab. He took out a pen light and reached up to place a servo lightly on the flame-colored mech’s forehead, pushing lightly to tilt the head in an angle where he could shine the pen light into his oral cavity and the blue optic glass.

“ _Um._ **_Maybe_** , yeah? I guess it’s just……….. _um_ , you know, the act of interfacing scares me a little. _It’s_ …….I know it’s supposed to hurt the first time and I don’t want it to hurt. Sometimes it _always hurts_ , someone said to me, and I don’t want it to always hurt,” Hot Rod murmured after First Aid stepped back to input some data on the datapad he had with him.

“The first time does hurt, but it’s also _very intense_. All of your drivers and protocols for sexuality become activated once someone enters your valve. _It’s incredibly intense_. It’s a different kind of activation if you’re the one using your spike,” the small CMO responded, folding his arms lightly across his chest. “It can hurt at other times too, depending on your drive and if there’s lag-time in function start-up. Usually, if you’re a valve mech or femme—it’s because your frame isn’t producing enough lubricant for entry. If you’re a spike-user, then there isn’t a full pressurization of your spike and the transfluid isn’t flowing through the pressure line.”

“How do you know _what_ you are? _I mean_ ……..I guess I don’t know what I mean, since I don’t have any experience at all,” the flame-colored mech whispered, kicking his pedes nervously against the examination slab.

“You’ll know what you want when you’re with someone you want to interface with. Some people are one or another and some people can enjoy using both their spike or their valve,” the red-and-white little mech chuckled warmly. He pulled a chair over to the examination slab and looked up at Hot Rod as he relaxed back into the chair. “The seals will make a first time rather frustrating and painful, too. It’s much easier if you find a partner willing to take time to soften up your seals, rather than tearing them right off, or going right through them. Or you can have the seals surgically removed, if you’re worried about that so much.”

“ _Um_. Can…….. _and you can hand me a datapad for this, I guess_ ………can you give me some tips, so I know what to expect?” Hot Rod asked, shyly looking down at the small medic. “I don’t want Brainstorm to think I’m _totally unprepared_ and I’m **_not_** going to give him free rein of the whole event!” He added, a lot more desperately this time, and then slapped his servos over his mouth as he realized he’d blurted out Brainstorm’s very name and had sworn he _wasn’t_ going to do that.

First Aid grinned beneath his facial shield and made sure not to laugh, because he knew it would embarrass Hot Rod even further. “ _Sure_. I’ve got a technique manual that I can loan you,” the red-and-white mech responded, getting up and leaving the room for a moment, then returned and handed a reader tablet to the flame-colored mech. “This is **_a loan_** , mind you—I want it back. Because Blades really likes trying new things all the time,” the Autobots’ CMO responded with a little chuckle.

Hot Rod grinned and gave a soft little laugh. “Brainstorm gave me only two days to _‘prepare’_ , he said. I’ll have it back to you the day after tomorrow, in the morning,” the flame-colored mech said, hopping off of the examination slab and tucked the reader tablet into a forearm subspace pocket.

The young Autobot left the medical ward area and headed back towards his own hab suite. First Aid asked his subordinates to see if there were any other appointments today that needed the Chief Medical Officer’s attention—of which there were _none_ —and then he dismissed himself to return to his own team’s habitation block. After all, he needed to tell Blades that he’d loaned out the interfacing techniques reader tablet that the aerial support officer loved creating so much—and often added to when he’d come up with some new position or technique.

Like many of the gestalt teams, the Protectobots had their own habitation block—there was a larger main gathering area and one private room where they might be together in groups of two or all five of them. Then there were five separate rooms spanned out from the main gathering area, they each had their own separate berthrooms, in case they wanted time to recharge by themselves. Which, for even the most tightly-knit teams that shared times with one another as lovers, it was _necessary_ for all of them to have breathing space sometimes.

“You’re home early, First Aid,” Streetwise said, looking up from the table, where he’d spread out a bunch of random datapads and reader tablets. 

“And you’re clearly working on something _unnecessary_ ,” First Aid chuckled, walking over and sitting across from his team partner and one of his lovers. He glanced at all the data things all over the table, propped his elbow-joints on the edge of the table and then grinned at Streetwise underneath his medical facial shield, letting his field flow out with warmth. “Are you that bored without Decepticons to investigate?” The small CMO asked, cupping his faceplate and swinging his legs beneath his seat.

“Someone like me has no place in a time like this. I wish that I could be sent back to Earth because I feel I could be of use there,” Streetwise sighed, starting to scoop up the datapads and reader tablets in a particular order and stacking them neatly to his left side.

“I know,” the little medic said, seriously, straightening up in the chair and becoming very attentive. “But we all voted. Optimus Prime was sending me back to Cybertron and we _all_ had to go together or forcefully request to _all_ remain on Earth.”

“Yes, I know,” the investigations officer sighed.

First Aid got up and looked at the bulletin board with everyone’s schedule listed on it. He tapped his name and posted “ _home early_ ” on the schedule line. It looked like Blades and Groove were on some wide patrols today and wouldn’t return until sometime late during the normal recharge period. Hot Spot’s schedule listed him in a security meeting today and his return time was a question mark. That meant it would last for however long Kup would talk—and **_that_** could be a very long time.

“It seems that it’s just you and me, for the moment,” First Aid said, getting two cans of high-grade Energon out of the storage cooler and then nodded towards the couch in the large gathering area.

Streetwise sighed and got up, walking with the smaller mech over to the couch and sat down next to his teammate and lover.

“I had a patient today who asked me questions about interfacing. Can you believe there are _still_ virgin mechs and femmes out there?” The smaller red-and-white mech chuckled. There was patient confidentiality, of course, so he would _never_ mention Hot Rod’s name—not even to his trusted and precious lovers.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything— _and everyone_ ,” Streetwise responded, sliding his nearer arm around behind First Aid and just settled down, enjoying the feel and presence of a familiar field and frame. He drank a long pull from the can and leaned back into the couch with a soft sigh.

“I gave out Blades’ techniques manual, but I’ll get it back in a couple days, the mech is quite reliable,” First Aid answered, retracting his medical facial shield so he could drink the Energon.

“I think that Blades would be happy to share all of his fun techniques with others, I doubt he’ll mind,” the investigations officer chuckled warmly. “He’ll just have to make note of anything new to add to it, later.”

A few moments later, First Aid set his can over on the side table and turned his frame towards the light-grey mech, with the red and blue defining lines. He straddled Streetwise’s legs and settled down on his lover’s thighs. Then he reached up, cupping the sides of the investigations officer’s faceplate, and kissed his teammate and lover deeply. Streetwise reached over and set his can on the other side table, barely making it to the table without being able to see where he was putting it—as his attention was occupied by a smaller mech plastered to his faceplate—then he slid one servo down to First Aid’s aft and the other lightly cradled the back of the little medic’s red helm.

“A little horny today?” Streetwise chuckled when First Aid pulled away from the kiss.

“I would like to call it _amorous_ ,” the little medic responded with a smile. “Let’s go to the berth, I’m rather revved up right now. I suppose even **_I’ve_** been bored by the quietness on Cybertron at the moment and need other pursuits to occupy my time. Even if they’re _Blades’_ favorite pursuits.”

The thing about being part of a gestalt was that emotions began to blend for the team members the longer they were together. They didn’t often seek other sources outside of their teammates for lovers. They began to get vague senses of how their teammates felt and they started “ _bleeding_ ” into one another. First Aid was more empathic than most, so he was the most sensitive of all the Protectobots, he could always get general feelings of all of his teammates.

“It sounds more like Blades’ libido, but Groove’s energy,” Streetwise chuckled, holding onto First Aid’s smaller frame as he worked himself up off the couch and carried the red-and-white mech into the private room off from the main gathering area.

“And Hot Spot’s endurance—remember, he’s in a meeting with Kup today and probably wishes he were _anywhere else_ doing something else,” First Aid chuckled, rubbing his nasal ridge against Streetwise’s neck-cabling.

“Let’s give him an excuse to somehow get himself out of that meeting,” Streetwise said, his voice low and his tone deeply amused.

“ ** _You wouldn’t!_** ” First Aid laughed. “ _No, seriously, **don’t**_!” He added as the investigations officer laid him on the berth and then fit himself between the little mech’s legs. But he was laughing as Streetwise stroked a glossa up his array paneling. First Aid purred softly and opened his panels. He wasn’t going to take any responsibility for what Streetwise was about to do to harass Hot Spot, likely with raunchy glyphs or communiques, but he would certainly take the time to enjoy it from a personal standpoint.

* * * * *

Hot Rod made sure they spent time doing something **_NOT_** in the berthroom. He wasn’t going to just let Brainstorm trap him in the berthroom and take control of the situation. So, the first thing they did that evening was that _they took a walk together_ —and the flame-colored mech made sure he had plenty of conversation topics that didn’t devolve into Brainstorm spouting either silly nonsense or incredibly suggestive themes.

“Wait, you were Autobot Leader for _how long_?” Brainstorm gasped, even his EM field showing he was surprised at this new bit of information. “How come you never mentioned it before?” He asked, a tone resembling a pout in his voice.

Hot Rod facepalmed himself with his free servo, as one of his servos was being occupied with being held by one of Brainstorm’s. Had Brainstorm seriously not read any of the “ _catching up_ ” reports that Hot Rod had given over to Cerebros for the new group to look over and get themselves familiarized with the current situation on Cybertron??? The details about Earth and why Optimus Prime was there………as well as general summaries of reports of the Decepticons remaining cloistered on Chaar at the moment….?

Then the young flame-colored mech smiled beneath his servo. It was just like something he would have done, before he had been Rodimus Prime. Just cruising about life and figuring anything important would be told to him—reports were for mechs like Ultra Magnus, not for exuberant young Hot Rod. Maybe that was another reason he really liked Brainstorm—it reminded the former Autobot Leader of a different time, when he’d been more “ _innocent_ ” of the ways of the universe. When he’d been far more **_free_** ……

Living life at the moment—and not thinking of the future or dwelling on the past.

Hot Rod squeezed Brainstorm’s servo fondly, removing his other servo from his face as he looked over and smiled at the teal-and-white mech beside him. “That’s right. The Matrix chose _me_ for a time. It’s empty now, so I _can’t_ be Rodimus Prime anymore anyways. And Optimus is back, which everyone really would prefer anyways,” he said, trying not to let the regret he sometimes felt over the situation tone his voice. It did leak a little bit into his EM field, though, he couldn’t help _that_.

“ _Hmmm_ ,” Brainstorm murmured, reaching up his free servo to rub the bottom ridge of his facial shield. “I’m sure you were a good leader. I mean, you have a lot of great attention to the unobserved details, I think,” he added, looking over at Hot Rod and returning the response of squeezing the other mech’s servo back.

“Well, history will record it the way it does, I guess,” Hot Rod chuckled, wryly. “I suppose as long as it’s quiet and the Decepticons stay on Chaar, we can all just have normal lives with normal moments like **_this_** ,” he added, holding up their clasped servos.

“Then I hope the Decepticons decide that Chaar is paradise and we get to enjoy this for a lot longer,” the teal-and-white mech said with a warm laugh erupting from his vocalizer, looking fondly at their clasped servos. The young scientist realized that the reason they hadn’t detoured straight to the berthroom was that Hot Rod wanted a little more personal time with each other—time that _wasn’t_ defined by sexuality. _It really wasn’t so bad_. Hot Rod could be as enthusiastic as him, but also be a lot more mature at times—having been Autobot Leader probably defined that.

Cerebros had often given him a dressing down throughout the decades about trying to be more mature and to think things out—even rushing into science could become a disaster. Just because you have an idea, it doesn’t mean you blurt it out and set to making it work within the next few astroseconds—you had to stop and think about the end result and make sure you didn’t get hurt (and you didn’t hurt others!) along the way. You couldn’t keep blazing through projects one after another and ignore the world around you, which was what Brainstorm had always done. Hot Rod had clearly learned a lesson much like that by becoming Rodimus Prime for even that brief year when he was Leader of the Autobots. Hot Rod had learned to temper his energy with at least a little bit of patience.

Maybe Brainstorm could learn a little bit of _that_ , too.

Eventually, they’d arrived back at Hot Rod’s hab suite.

“You can come in, but let’s not go straight to the berth, yet,” the flame-colored mech chuckled, walking into the apartment first and switching on the light. “This is still a little anxiety-inducing for me, because I know it’s going to hurt and I don’t like pain very much. So, let’s lay out a few rules here—if you’re going to break my seals, _you’re going to do it slow and do it right_. That means a bit of patience and a bit of work and putting some actual **_love_** into your field, rather than lust, all of which might help me stay calmer and not panic,” he said, firmly, placing his servos on his hips as he looked directly into Brainstorm’s yellow optics.

“Ninety-nine percent of that was actually my plan,” Brainstorm chortled softly, folding his arms across his chest, boldly.

Hot Rod facepalmed himself, trying very hard not to wonder what 1% of what was just said _wasn’t_ in Brainstorm’s plan. Then he moved his servo to the back of his neck and rubbed it anxiously. “Hey, Brainstorm—do you _actually_ like me or do you just wanna frag me?” He asked, softly, staring at the floor because he was afraid of trying to read any expressions of what he could see on Brainstorm’s faceplate right now.

The flame-colored mech felt the young scientist approach—both field and frame could be felt right in front of him—but he couldn’t look up at him, not just yet.

“You have a very sexy aft. And you’re very kind,” Brainstorm said, lightly placing a kiss on the top of Hot Rod’s red helm. That meant he’d retracted his facial shield already. “You’re normal and worldly and brilliant, in your own way—somewhat opposite of myself. But we’re both young and both full of energy and life, I think we can mesh really well together.”

Hot Rod frowned. That _didn’t_ actually answer his question. 

“I totally wanna frag you, but………I also want to see where this goes,” the young scientist chuckled, sliding a servo up along the side of Hot Rod’s faceplate, to make the flame-colored mech look into his optics. “You’re the first person in the universe who’s made me want to slow down and take a look at it.”

Hot Rod smiled and gave a light chuckle. “You’re missing a whole lot if you’re not slowing down to look,” he said, reaching over to pat the teal-and-white mech’s chest, right above the Autobot brand there. “If Optimus doesn’t keep me grounded here on Cybertron forever, I’d like to show you places I’ve been—from Earth to Telos and elsewhere in the universe. Telos is the center of the Galactic Alliance—it’s a busy, bustling planet, but it would remind you of the Crystal City from here on Cybertron, even Magnus says so,” the flame-colored mech said. He _finally_ felt more relaxed and less nervous. Brainstorm had feelings for him, though he expressed them weirdly—that was the most important part of where they were going tonight and going forward from here.

Hot Rod reached up and kissed Brainstorm’s revealed lips and cupped a servo on the back of the young scientist’s neck. The teal-and-white mech responded by sliding his glossa through the young mech’s lips and swiped it broadly all around the inside of Hot Rod’s mouth. A purring-hum reverberated in the flame-colored mech’s vocalizer, soundwaves vibrated against Brainstorm’s glossa and he kept kissing and swiping his glossa around with excitement.

“Berth, now?” The young Autobot scientist asked, grinning as he gazed into Hot Rod’s blue optic glass, which were flaring brightly with arousal.

“ _Yeah_ , but go easy on me, okay?” The flame-colored mech murmured, his faceplate brightening a light pink.

“ _Wellllllllllll_ ………..not too easy, but I’ll do my best,” Brainstorm chuckled.

It was slow, it was beautiful………there was a bit of pain and ache, but Brainstorm made up for it by holding up when he needed to—rather than pressing forwards, as he probably would’ve originally done without Hot Rod’s earlier admonishments. After the first merging of their frames, they took a rest and drank some Energon. Then Hot Rod made some suggestions, based upon the interfacing techniques manual of Blades’ that First Aid had loaned him, and **_that_** excited Brainstorm even more—until they had gone on for hours, savoring pleasure and the heat of one another’s frames.

After they had finally relented to succumbing to recharge needs, Hot Rod was starting to doze off as he curled, all nestled against Brainstorm’s side. His array ached a little bit, still……..vibrations from overloads rippling through the walls of his valve, as well as a light throb around the mesh lips— _that_ from being stretched and opened—but, overall, Hot Rod did feel pretty good. And satisfied, both physically and emotionally.

“Tomorrow, I have a little kink I’d like to try out. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, your frame is _so amazing and responsive_ ……….” Brainstorm began, his voice still sounding alert and awake and very energetic.

Hot Rod groaned and reached up a servo to slap it over Brainstorm’s faceplate, in order to shut him up. Then he smiled, chuckled, and then started laughing warmly as he snuggled up against the teal-and-white mech’s side.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an illustration to go with it. :)
> 
> https://www.weasyl.com/~keirajo/submissions/1878497/it-s-love-or-something


End file.
